Perks of sitting in a bar
by Imogen Noir
Summary: Emily and Derek are sitting in a bar. A situation that develops in a bigger matter when they cross paths with one NCIS team- and their members have more in common than occupation. Includes NCIS and CM teams with AU timelines. Abandoned at the moment! Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

Encounter A/N: Well, this is my second attempt at writing a fic. It will be totally different. This will be a NCIS- Criminal Minds multi-chap crossover. I love both series. However, I watch the first more, just for you to know. This fic is dedicated to the ones who followed me, reviewed my first (and tragic) story or favourited it. You know who you are. Here, in the Criminal Minds universe, Hotch and Haley are divorced, no Foyet or Doyle, yes Strauss. In the NCIS one, Jenny is still Director but not the manipulative bitch she was during La Grenouille's case. In the timeline, it is probably pre- Somalia, but slightly AU because of that.  
Disclaimer: the characters, mentions to events, plot, lines or whatever. Not mine. Sadly. *pouts*

* * *

Emily and Derek were hanging out in a bar. It had been a long, exhausting day, with a case which had drained them both. Hotch and JJ had excused themselves in order to see their children, Dave said he was too old (but they were quite sure he had a date) and Reid and Garcia wanted to go home. It was weird for their technical analyst not to accompany them, but she had been up since two days prior.  
Therefore, the two agents sat pretty late in the night on stools in a bar. If Emily tried to remember how they had ended like that, her memories were just a long succession of clubs, cabs and bars. And several roads that had somehow led them to… Where were them? She would say somewhere in DC. She wasn't even sure. Granted, they had started in Quantico, and that was considered part of the metropolitan area. But, gosh, there was a long way in between.  
And now she had one of those fancy-named drinks that, she would assure, contained tequila, vodka or something of those sorts. And was trapped in a deep conversation with Morgan.  
"So, tell me, Em, about that date with that hot tub you had the other day. It sounded like a party, indeed!" Typical Derek, but his words kind of slurred and she only got what he meant because she was expecting it.  
"Nothing to tell, we had a great time," she could guess hers sounded as little understandable as his, but the humor would work (she hoped) as a deviator for the conversation. Her love life, or lack of thereof, wasn't something she was eager to discuss.  
"Sometimes, after a case like this, I just need to be reminded that we are still humans, living beings. Dunno, it's my way to cope, I mean. Touch warm skin. Know they are alive". WOW. She never would have waited for this words to leave his mouth and was pretty sure that if they hadn't been both totally intoxicated, they wouldn't have been said. "How do ya do it, Princess? Being all perfect, all complete. I feel all shattered and you are all like impassible."  
How on earth was she supposed to answer that!? She was an expert in compartmentalization, she obviously did have feelings. Why did everybody assume she didn't? Did he think that of her? Of course she craved for human touch, but not anyone's; it was his she wanted. Although that was just wishful thinking, because that wasn't going to happen like, ever. So she decided a partial truth would do the trick. "I cope with chocolate ice cream and hot tubs, as you know. I'm not interested in flings. I'm just fine on my own." THAT was a lousy lie, but drunken Derek wouldn't notice. And she was proud of her drunken self for not revealing more than what she intended.  
"No flings, huh? So you are interested in someone!" Dammit. She was confident in her answer. So, plan B: childlike discussion. But she knew they could be like that forever. Fuck.  
"Am not."  
"Are too."  
"Am not."  
"Are too."  
"Am not."  
"Are too, princess."  
Right in that moment, a very odd-looking (happy?) goth in the table besides them chose to stand on a seat and wave to someone in the packed crowd. She was obviously drunk and fell off it. With her, there were a petite, olive-skinned woman with thick, dark curly hair; a handsome man with hazel green eyes and a geeky-looking one with light hair and eyes. All three, Emily and Derek rushed to help. The rest of the people hadn't apparently noticed, which wasn't weird considering the incredible amount that was inside the place. They pulled her to her feet. Luckily, she only had a couple of bruises.  
"Abby here is like super-hyper, she knows about about falls. It's not easy to manage several boxes while drinking Caf-pow and using rollers," laughed the first man with a charming smile. "I don't believe I have introduced myself. DiNozzo, Anthony DiNozzo. But you can call me Tony," he winked to Em.  
"Shut up, Tony. Stop flirting with her. I am Ziva David." She had an accent that the female profiler could place somewhere in Middle East.  
"Emily Prentiss," she answered the unspoken question as she shook the woman's hand. Luckily, they had all kind of sobered up a little. "Israeli?"  
Ziva started to nod, she had almost immediately started to like the brunnette.  
A voice rose from the crowd. "Excuse me, please, excuse me…"  
She hadn't heard it in years. And then, its owner came out.  
"Uncle Ducky!?" She exclaimed in surprise.  
"Emily, my dear, it has been a long time!"

* * *

A/N: OK, so this is the first chapter. If you wish, let me know your thoughts. Or suggestions, corrections, whatever. The next update will probably be in a couple of weeks. Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: OK. So, it has been a while but I warned you on my last update. The next probably won't be ready in less than 10 days. I was away on a school trip, so please excuse me.  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Except the plot line, everything is borrowed. Go tell whoever said it was that they are sadly wrong. Snif, snif.

* * *

_She hadn't heard it in years. And then, its owner came out._  
_"Uncle Ducky!?" She exclaimed in surprise._  
_"Emily, my dear, it has been a long time!"_

* * *

They had been hugging for the last minute or so before Derek coughed loudly to call Emily's attention. He had been talking with the rest of the group when he had turned to see her embraced with some elderly dude the others seemed to know.  
She pulled away to face the five people who were watching them closely.  
"Sorry, guys. This is Donald Mallard, he is my uncle. Or sort of…"  
"Well, what Emily here is trying to explain is that she is actually my cousin's daughter. I have never had a close relationship with Elizabeth, her mother, but we used to be accomplices. This reminds me of a time when I was a young lad in Scotland and I had this friend…"  
"Ducky!"  
"Sorry, my dears. Well, it's such a wonderful coincidence that you have encountered Emily! But I believe Abigail here called her in order to be given a ride home. Mother is gone for the weekend, so maybe all of you people would like to stay at my place?" he offered.  
"Yay! Pijama party!" a man exclaimed.  
"You are not invited, stranger!" was the group's response.  
Emily knew it would be a lot more adequate and polite to refuse the invitation. However, she was wasted, sleep was starting to kick in and she hadn't seen her godfather in a long time. What the hell, fuck politics. "If you are sure we're not imposing, uncle…"  
"Not at all, young lady!"  
So they left the bar. Derek and Tony were talking; the other man and Ziva were helping the goth. When, after several falls and bumps, they reached the parking lot, they faced another problem: Ducky drove a Morgan. A two seat Morgan.  
"You can drive mine," Ziva offered, saving the day with a Mini Cooper.  
The doctor, being the only one sober, was in charge of driving, and the car's owner rode next to him. That left Morgan, Emily, Abby, the one she had identified as Tim and the italian.  
Five squeezed, drunk people with guns (the presence of some firearms was ignored) in the backseat of such a tiny car was a sight worth seeing.  
Luckily, the ME's place wasn't too far away. As soon as they arrived, they hopped out of the car, relieved, and after a few minutes of deliverance, the guys settled in the living room and the women in the guest bedroom. Nobody had spare clothing, so they just took a few blankets and lied down.  
"So, Em, whattya do for a living?" Her roommates were starting to sober up, and seemingly curious about her and her unknown relation to Ducky.  
"I work for the FBI…"  
"Cool! We are NCIS! We always work with Fornell from the FBI. He is short and bald and grumpy, just like Gibbs, but Gibbs is not bald, nor that short, and Fornell has this little daughter called Emily, like you, and she is sooo sweet, and really cute but she is also Diane's and Diane is Gibbs and Fornell's ex. Anyway, do you know him?"  
Emily was momentaneously confused by the torrent of words coming out of Abby's mouth.  
"Um… I've heard of your agency, I have only worked once with one of your agents, Vivian something, I believe. I've met Agent Fornell, though we aren't close and I don't know Emily."  
"Oh, not every FBI agent is moody! Because everybody I know from there is Fornell and Sacks and you are way cooler!" said the goth and high- fived the others.  
"I know! I can't stand him! He asked me out, I told him I was seeing someone else and he just shrugged! He is unbelievable! Just disgusting!" Emily really didn't like the other FBI agent, and was glad to find that other people didn't either.  
"So, are you?" Ziva was considering her a potential family member, considering her relationship with Ducky, and she was eager to get to know more.  
"Nope," she answered with a popping of the 'p'.  
"Men are complicated," Abby said. Suddenly, she jumped and asked, "You are into men, are you? It's not like it would be a problem if you weren't but it would be like really awkward, ya know…"  
"I like men, Abs. Stay calm," Emily answered and they all laughed.  
After a while of short chattering and the girls learning about Sergio, they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A/N 2: If anyone is interested in betaying this, we could talk about it, just PM me.

Of course, I'm always and forever grateful with all of you and gladly accept criticism.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the third part to this story! Hope you like it and I have a very special announcement to make: I will probably be including Kate in this story. I just watched again "Yankee White" yesterday and remembered how much I loved her. Don't worry, because I ship Tiva more than Tate, so no problem there. I have made up my mind regarding most of the pairings in this story. :)  
Disclaimer: I have no rights over (almost) anything of this. Sadly.

* * *

Emily woke up to a pounding headache. God bless her, how much had she drunk? And she hadn't even moved. Great. This one was going to hurt.  
Step one: recognize the surroundings. Because she didn't have the slightest idea of where on Earth she was. Something that felt like a blanket was draped over her lower half. Still with her eyes closed, she focused on its feeling. Was that wool? Yes, it may be. She was, luckily, completely dressed. That wasn't looking too bad. Except, of course, of the my-head-is-about-to-explode sensation. She hadn't been so out of her mind. Or had she? She felt a pain in her lower back. Awesome, she now had to check that as well. And what was that sound in the back? Light snoring? Definitively, someone was over there. She opened her eyes slowly, frowning in discomfort at the light entering from the window. She blinked a couple times.  
"Good. I see you are awake," a voice said and a short, fit, curly haired woman in cargo pants and a plain shirt came into her field of vision.  
"Ziva," she uttered as the previous night's memories flooded back to her.  
"Great, you remember. Though I would say you have quite a hangover, yes?" She offered her a glass full of a clear liquid. Emily took it and sniffed it in distrust.  
"Drink it, it is just water and aspirin," she kindly explained. "Bathroom is second door on the right, and breakfast is ready whenever you want. If you accept my advice, it would be soon because I will wake up the men".  
"Thanks. What time is it?" It was sunny outside.  
"9 25 AM."  
Well, that wasn't bad either. She had a lot to catch up with Ducky, after all. Groaning at the pain in her ass and the headache, she sat up on the mattress she had been lying , she noticed the other person in the room, the source of the sound she had discovered when she woke up. Abby was peacefully sleeping on the only bed in the place, her jet black hair sprayed over her face.  
Emily winced. She hadn't been talking specifically loud, but not quietly, for that matter. "Gosh, I'm sorry! Luckily, I didn't wake her up!" she whispered to her companion. She clamped a hand over her mouth in horror as a thought crossed her mind. "I didn't wake you up either, did I? I'm so so sorry if I did! I sometimes talk asleep, I forgot completely! Specially if I drink as much as I did last night, because I lost count of my drinks and…"  
Ziva stopped her rambling. "No, you did not. I always wake up early and go for a run at 5 AM. Surprisingly, I have kept that habit from my previous employment".  
The profiler was curious. "What did you use to do?" She saw uncertainty in the eyes of the other woman, but it was quickly shadowed by determination. Maybe she had pushed a boundary. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. We don't know each other that much, and I'm myself kind of private, so I get it".  
" No, do not worry! I did the compulsory years for the IDF and then joined Mossad, very young. Mossad was everything I was for a long time, I still find it difficult to trust people".  
"I understand it completely, I was CIA. That is like a pretty secretive place, too. Actually, none of my coworkers knows, so I would appreciate a lot if you didn't say anything", She was embarrassed, she didn't know what had caused her to spill such a deeply buried secret. Maybe it was that connection she felt with the Israeli. They were very similar. "Mossad, huh? Which branch or speciality?"  
Ziva wasn't sure how to define what she used to do. She had been the wild card, the star agent, the robot. "Metsada. Kidon". Ah, now everything clicked in Emily's mind, except for one thing: How did an intelligence, assassinations, special ops, with classified and sensitive information ended up being an NCIS -american agency- employee? She asked her that.  
"Director Shepard and me decided it was the best we could do in regards of a certain situation, and my father and the team agreed". Her father? What had she meant? Who was him that had the power to make decisions on the future of one of Mossad's best assets? Whoaaa there. Her mother had met the Mossad Director. Wasn't his last name David? "Director David?" she asked in astonishment.  
Ziva stood frozen at the door she was going through. "David is a common name in Israel", she murmured uncompromisingly. Her face lit up, "Happier thoughts, breakfast is prepared. And you have to meet the boys sober. They are so much fun! And do not wake Abby up or you will regret it!" she called out as she left.  
Emily smiled to herself.

* * *

A/N2: As always, love to hear what you think about my story!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: NCIS, Criminal Minds or anything else that you find familiar: not mine, just borrowed.

* * *

A/N: Here's the new chapter. I hope you like and I'm very grateful for your response!

* * *

_"Happier thoughts, breakfast is prepared. And you have to meet the boys sober. They are so much fun! And do not wake Abby up or you will regret it!" she called out as she left._  
_Emily smiled to herself._

* * *

Emily got up, stirred and slowly walked to the bathroom. Oh, no! She had forgotten the clothes. Dammit, dammit, dammit! She turned around and back to the room. She checked around for her , she remembered she hadn't brought anything besides her purse. Suddenly, a voice startled her, "If you are looking for your clothes, I'm sure Ziva has found you something and left it in the bathroom". Abby was propped up on an elbow, blinking at the morning light. "And if you don't wanna go commando, just use the hair dryer after you're done with washing your underwear. I do that a lot when I forget to grab an extra pair".  
The profiler thanked the other woman and returned to the restroom. It was standard size; with a sink, a shower, a toilet and a gabinet. On the floor, there was a mounticle of clothes with a note on top. She read it as she locked the door, "I found these- I hope they fit you. Z". She examined what had been left for her. There was a white tank top with blue skulls, a delicate blue shirt and khaki cargo pants. Emily grinned, the top was so clearly Abby's; the trousers, Ziva's and the shirt from another woman she hadn't met yet.  
As she was undressing, she touched a bandage right on the place in her lower back that was hurting. Turning her back to the mirror, she looked over her shoulder with fear. A black phoenix was tattooed there. Curious and sighing in relief, she examined it. The piece of art was about three inches wide and four tall, and very beautiful. But it hurt as hell, she thought. Well, it wasn't the first tattoo she got, she already had the small gun on her hip and the tiny rose in her ankle. She was grateful she knew what to do with it. When she stepped off the shower, she wiped it clean and covered it in a new bandage, and the pain was less.  
After she had finished dressing, she dried her hair with a towel, pulled it high in a ponytail and came down the stairs. She could wear the outfit surprisingly well and was feeling a lot better. The delicious smell of bacon, eggs and coffee hit her. She followed the scent to the kitchen, where she found Ducky and Ziva, who was snickering with a bag in her hands. She could just say hello to her uncle before been dragged by her to the living room.  
She was shown the contents of the bag: markers, whipped cream, some strings of rope and a hornet, and then Ziva approached the sleeping Tony, Tim and Derek. First, she went near McGee, very silently. She tied his right foot to his left hand and drew freckles and a French moustache on his face. Emily chuckled, he looked hilarious. She then saw the Israeli doing some signs with her hands. After a few seconds, she realized they were tactic symbols used during operations when no talking was allowed. "You-can-take-D" was the message she got. Well, she was way too asleep. What on Earth was she talking about? Oh, right, "D" must be Derek. The offer was tempting. It would be so much fun! On the other hand, he was her best friend and, more importantly, she still had to work with the guy. She took a moment to consider and the right way to signal. She did what was supposed to be a "No-you-go" and winked an eye at her to imply the thanks.  
Ziva took on her cue. She drew cat-like features and tied the socks he had slept with. She still had Tony to go and Emily wondered what she had been planning. First, the ninja topped his feet all over with cream, and also drew a thick moustache. Finally, she made eyebrows with more cream and, after throwing the bag to her, she straddled Tony's body and blew the hornet with all her forces (or, at least, very loud). Emily had feared what she would do and barely covered her ears before the noise. She kinda felt sorry for the guys, because they weren't that lucky. Tim jumped but due to the ropes, he ended falling back on the mattress he had been on. Derek started as well, but batting his hands and shrieking he fell, in a way that made Emily wish she had recorded it all. Last but not least, Tony reacted grabbing Ziva's hips and rolling over so he was crushing her under him. She giggled in a very girly and not at all crazy-ninja or trained-assassin way, as she kicked him and trashed around to avoid him, who was tickling her.  
When they got up, they had smears of cream everywhere. Derek, Emily and Tim were staring at them with their mouths hanging. Ziva blushed and DiNozzo flashed a 1000-watt smile, "She never notices I notice". And received a punch in exchange. "Breakfast is ready, you said?" Emily supplied.  
But the funniest part ever was when the men saw the drawings on each other.

* * *

A/N2: Well, how's it going? I want to thank everybody that reads the story and more specially, to all those who reviewed, favourited or followed. Thanks for making me feel like what I write is worth it! And indirects thanks to my brother, my parents, my besties and that friend who is always there for me, despite all her obligations. Love you!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry about the delay, you know, school, stuff. Here in the southern hemisphere, we are ending classes and I've got tons of work to do. Hope you like this! And, Lexie4MP, this is for you, thank you so much for your reviews!

* * *

Disclaimer: Nothing that seems familiar isn't mine, just for your information. If it is yours, so sorry, I'm just playing a little.

* * *

_"Breakfast is ready, you said?" Emily supplied. _

_But the funniest part ever was when the men saw the drawings on each other._

* * *

They were all sitting in the kitchen as they finished having breakfast. The NCIS and BAU team members present were telling each other about their families.  
"Well, first, there's Hotch. He is called Aaron Hotchner, he is our Special Agent in charge. He can be like, sweet, when he is with Jack, his son, but he usually is so serious but loyal, and fair!" Emily started explaining.  
"Then, there is JJ. She is Jennifer Jareau, our media liaison and a great friend. She is Henry's mom, and he's so damn cute. She may seem naive, but is awesome with the journalists and whatever comes our way, and choosing cases, and she is very brave too. She used to play soccer and is a Cheetos fan." She was doing her best to give a realistic image of her team.  
"Dr Spencer Reid, he's so clever! And he is like my baby brother. He is so good at what he does and know a lot about… Well, everything. He is a genius, and sometimes resembles a robot. Actually, most of the time."  
"Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and a hell of one. She is one of the best in the whole world. You know, all those analysts you usually find in the government agencies? Garcia isn't like anyone of those. She is very positive, happy and colourful."  
"David Rossi, the author, is like the father of the team. He has a lot of experience on life, and he owns this great "cabin" in the woods, that is actually kind of a mansion, and he is very generous."  
Tim was very interested in his work, and asked her, "Maybe, later, another day, I don't know, do you think I can meet him?"  
She smiled at this, "Yeah, sure, we can talk about it, I'll give you my number. You are Thom E. Gemcity, aren't you? I read 'Deep Six', it was super good, I loved it!"  
McGee blushed at the compliment, and Emily continued.  
"Okay, so… Hotch, JJ, Spence, Garcia, Dave… We've got Alex Blake, she's the newbie, she has turned into a maternal figure in such a short time, though. She's very intelligent and determined, but I don't really know her that well. Finally, there's Derek Morgan, the one and only who is sitting here with us today, or Chocolate Adonis for Pen, if you will. He is playful, strong and wiggles his eyebrows. The best part is his super fantastic taste in books and partners".  
At that, he shot his eyebrows upwards, making everybody laugh. "Aren't ya forgetting someone, Princess?"  
She frowned as she tried to remember if she had left someone out of her short list. Seeing her perplexed, he started, "OK. I'll do it. She is very smart, knows a lot of languages, always has my back, is extremely sarcastic, very nice, Baby Girl calls her Gumdrop… Do you know her?" He winked an eye at her. Emily was very embarrassed but, deep inside, she felt really glad and flattered, so she was grateful when he asked about the NCIS team.  
"Zi, McGoo and I are part of the MCRT, what stands for Major Crime Response Team. We are one of the most important teams in our agency. Kate is the one missing here, but she didn't feel that well. She is very brave, and an awesome fighter. She used to be Secret Service, presidential detail, but then she also used to stick way too much to the rules. Zee- vah here is our own ninja, no longer on loan from Mossad. She can kill you 18 different ways with a paperclip, and that's kinda frightening…" At this, she had punched him and he stopped for a brief second, "and she sings pretty well. Probie Wan Kenobi is a computer freak, loves video games and writes books. I am the very special SFA". He got interrupted by McGee, 2He has an annoying habit of quoting movie lines, he is a womanizer and he has an obsession with himself".  
Everybody bursted into laughter once again, and Ziva high fived Tim. Tony glared at them and they knew that he was already planning his payback.  
Abby continued explaining, "The team leader is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He is my silver-haired fox, terribly quiet. He was a Marine, he builds boats in his basement, he has over 50 rules and he is divorced from three redheads. He always follows his gut and sneaks on me when I've got results, I swear, the man's a psychic! Ducky is our ME, and has lots of interesting stories to tell. Palmer is his assistant, he is very weird but a nice guy. Jenny is our Director. She is fantastic at politics, very clever and strong, she has a great sense of style and once you get to see through her facade, she is lovely. We strongly suspect she and Gibbs used to have something going on between the two of them. I am Abby, your friendly forensic scientist. I love my job, Caf- pow!, my MCRT, and black and/or spiky stuff."  
"She sleeps in a coffin, has a farting hippo and bowls with nuns", Ziva added, "So that's our family…"  
After a comfortable silence (during which the FBI agents wondered who could possibly be considered weirder than Abby), they drifted on to separate conversations and Emily saw the chance to get to talk with Ducky.  
"So, dear, I haven't spoken with Liz in years. What is she up to lately?"  
"Well, last time we phoned each other, about a month ago, she was perfectly fine, once again stationed in France."  
"That is fabulous! What about yourself? Do you have a man in your life, where are you living?"  
"Yeah, Sergio! Nah, just kidding, he is my cat. I have several men, but not in a romantic sense. I have a condo in the city, it's a nice place, quite big. What about you? I believe you said something about your mother?"  
"Yes, yes, my mother, Victoria, is a little weak and lately, she has turned… peculiar. She is gone for the weekend with some friends from the old days. Well, it is so good to see you! If you are up to it, maybe some day soon we can take a coffee together, and I'm interested in what you do at work, too."  
"Sure thing, if I don't catch a hot case, what about next Tuesday?"  
"I claim the same, but it would be lovely".  
They exchanged cell phone numbers and they said goodbye, and Emily dragged Derek away.  
They took a cab and left.

"Well, they are nice, aren't they?" Ziva commented.  
"They are awesome!" Abby answered in her usual enthusiasm.

* * *

A/N2: Feel free to review, whatever you like, I really like it! :)


End file.
